


Molly and the Phantom Sleep Partner

by Deathbyhook



Series: Sherlolly's adventures/amazingness [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathbyhook/pseuds/Deathbyhook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So imagine Sherlock hiding out at Molly’s place and she gives him an open invitation to take half her bed since she doesn’t have a spare but he refuses vehemently so she’s like alright and she doesn’t tell him how she knows he sneaks into his half of the bed every night anyway" inspired by tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Molly and the Phantom Sleep Partner

**Author's Note:**

> this is m reacting like a typical fangirl to some tumblr headcanon! credit to collapsingnebulae on tumblr for the inspiration! 
> 
> link here to original post: http://collapsingnebulae.tumblr.com/post/124981743922/so-imagine-sherlock-hiding-out-at-mollys-place
> 
> Unbeta'd so please forgive the typos/errors! Enjoy! <3
> 
> REVIEW PLEASE:P

She wasn’t a deduction genius. She wasn’t even a genius. But it didn’t take one to know that Sherlock snuck into her bed every night. Despite his adamant refusal to do so.

 

Two weeks ago:

“Christ!” Molly ran straight into a billowing belstaff just after opening her door. 

She had been busy ushering Toby away from the open doorway, the little shite tried every time to escape. One would think endless belly rubs and food supply wasn’t a welcome life for the feline.

“I lost your cat for about half an hour, do close the door before we’d have to chase after him again!” Sherlock frustratingly swept his hands over the lapels of his coat. Molly nearly squealed. Despite the shock, she closed the door.

“Molly you know I’m not dead, stop acting like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She couldn’t. It had been a week since she’d helped fake his death. The plans still whirring in her head nonsensically. And seven days of not knowing where or how he was had taken its toll. Without thought, and total disregard for personal boundaries, Molly drop her bags and flung her arms around Sherlock’s middle.

He stiffened of course. But then his hands came to rest gingerly on her shoulders; the faintest of squeezes sent her heart into a stutter. She stiffened then and stood straighter, thwacking his arm.

“Molly! W-” she held up a hand. Surprisingly he silenced himself.

“-Sherlock you were supposed to come to the bolt-hole immediately after the fall. Mycroft has called me three times a day for the past week, to see if you had appeared… Well? Where were you?”

Sherlock had the decency to look somewhat shamed but he quickly stood straighter and replied, “I’ve been securing a few contacts within my homeless network, and ensuring some of my friends are being watched over. Not that it was anything you needed to know, besides. However, I do apologize for my nagging ninny of a brother. I hope those phone calls were-”

“- on a secure line,” She waved him off. And took her bags to the kitchen.

“Mycroft has the place bugged, I’m sure. I don’t really care where you were, so long as you were safe; I know he does. Thank you for being an honest sibling, Sherlock.”

The consulting detectives mouth nearly dropped open, had he not full control over his faculties. Molly had just bested him. And an inexplicable need to hold her again- purely for closer observation, he reasoned- came over him. Instead he watched her unpack the groceries.

“Care to help me, Sherlock or are you going to sit there deducing?”

He shook out of his reverie and scrunched his face, “Don’t speak of my deductions as if they were a silly hobby-”

She giggled. He liked that…

“-but as it is, I can’t help you; I’m tired.”

“So tired that you’re still in your coat and staring at me in my kitchen?”

“Yes, erhm, tired from chasing your bloody cat about the building; nearly revealing I am not in fact dead.”

Molly pursed her lips, “Fair point! Alright you can sleep on the sofa- as reward.”

She giggled, done with the groceries, she headed for the linen closet.

Sherlock stepped over to the “sofa”. It was a glorified settee. 

“Molly you can’t be serious.”

“I don’t have a spare room. You know this.”

“You know you’d better fit on this than I?”

“ Oh no! No, no, no. This is my flat and you’ll only be here for a few more days. No. I sleep in my bed.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping on this,” he crossed his arms; she swore he’d stomp his foot.

“Sherlock you don’t sleep at all. you’re acting like a petulant child.”

He didn’t budge. 

Of all the years of fantasizing over sharing a bed with Sherlock, this was not the way she’d thought the proposition would come come out of her mouth, “Fine Sherlock, you can have the other half of my bed.”

“No.”

“Well, then sleep on the floor!”

“Out of the question, Molly.”

Exasperated, she was suddenly exhausted herself, “then have the other side of the bed, Sherlock!”

“Most certainly not! It’s indecent.”

“Ugh! I don’t care anymore! But I’m going to bed. Do what you will.”

With a wave she headed for her bedroom. She was asleep within minutes. And when she woke the next morning, the other side of the bed was neatly made. Too neatly made. 

She knew her body jostled a lot in her sleep. Many lovers have complained as much. 

Sherlock had come in sometime that night to sleep. And her body felt the loss. Her back still warm, and her arm still tingling. He was brewing coffee when she finally left the room.

“You snore, I heard you all the way from that horrid lump you call a sofa. See someone about that.”

She would have spat a few choice expletives his way, had she not known he actually slept with her; snuggling her. So she just smiled sympathetically- he would be embarrassed. 

“Yes, Sherlock. I’ll make an appointment. Thank you, for your concern.”

She giggled, she wouldn’t be cruel, but she could tease.

 

And so it continued that way for two weeks. A much longer stay than she had expected. Hes was lonely, she could tell. And she felt like he'd never leave. Hoped. Until today.

She felt something warm pressed up against her back. Swelling and sighing. Her eyes widened in horror. But she slowly turned to find Sherlock sleeping and snoring… His chest rising and falling against her shoulder blades. And her heart swelled. He would be mortified to know she had found him that way. So she rolled forward again, and closed her eyes. But not before brushing a light hand over his forearm; hugging him ever so slightly. She burrowed herself deeper into his embrace. 

He startled a little. His breathe an indication that he woke up. She could feel his gaze bore onto her face. She would swear she felt him smiling.

“Goodbye, Molly,” he whispered. She couldn’t help but frown a little; eyes still closed. He shifted a little and his lips pressed themselves against the corner of her mouth. And suddenly he was gone. She cried.

When she left the bedroom there was a fresh brew waiting for her, and a note.

‘You will know whether or not I am safe. Rest assured. Thank you for lending me your home. -SH

PS- please see a doctor, you may develop sleep apnea; i read it somewhere.’

The laughter the note afforded her, pleasantly relieved her heart ache. But what touched her most was his promise. She would know he was safe. 

She couldn’t promise him she’d rest easily. After all, she had two weeks worth of sleeping with Sherlock to fantasize about.


End file.
